Those familiar with homeschooling are aware that there is no end to the debate and discussion surrounding different philosophies of how education should function within our homes. Now that my eldest is approaching school age, I have spent a fair amount of time researching popular educational methodologies and their underlying philosophical assumptions. Through this process, I have become more and more convinced that the method we choose to implement in our families is nothing less than an issue of great theological importance.
In our age of modern relativism, I fear we have a tendency to espouse the belief that there is no particular “right” way to educate our children, but instead that each family has the freedom to choose whichever methodology works best within his unique home. To some extent, I would agree with this sentiment, but only insofar as the philosophy (theology, really) undergirding the methods and practices are based on Scriptural principles. What is our view of anthropology? How do we understand a child’s journey toward wisdom and maturity, especially in the context of the family? What is our posture toward authority and how might this posture influence our children’s interactions with the knowledge being conveyed? What are the virtues or outcomes we prize–humility or worldly metrics of success? These questions and so many more need to be attended to before we even begin to decide which curriculum to purchase.
Yet, many of the conversations I’ve had about education or those I’ve seen take place online have little depth in delving into these areas of necessary examination. Instead, most often I will hear that such-and-such program/curriculum is producing the desired results by which the well-intentioned mom usually means that her child is able to correctly answer questions or outwardly perform certain skills. The child’s performance then becomes the highest benchmark for whether or not that particular mode of learning is valued in the home.
The Western belief in the efficacy of examinations is a symptom of a widespread and deep-seated tendency,—the tendency to judge according to the appearance of things, to attach supreme importance to visible ‘results,’ to measure inward worth by outward standards, to estimate progress in terms of what the ‘world’ reveres as ‘success.’
-Edmund Holmes, What Is and What Might Be: A Study of Education in General, and Elementary Education in Particular, 1912
As an example, I will use the methodology popularly exemplified in programs like Classical Conversations, a favorite among many Christian homeschoolers. While this curriculum and many others like it are often called “classical,” there are those (like Amanda Faus of The Children’s Tradition) who have expressed concern that these programs represent a serious departure from the classical tradition as it’s been practiced over the course of thousands of years. These sorts of “neoclassical” curricula are largely based on the work of Dorothy Sayers and her speech (later turned essay), “The Lost Tools of Learning.” In it, she spoke of the trivium, a term that is likely familiar to those in the neoclassical movement, which represented three distinct stages of childhood development as corresponding to the “lost tools” of grammar, rhetoric, and logic.
Most problematically, Sayers advocated the use of a child’s natural vice at any given age to be exploited for the benefit of his or her education. For instance, she rightly observed that a middle school age child may be naturally inclined to argumentativeness, including the questioning of authority. Instead of seeking to train and disciple the child in a way that would promote virtue instead of vice, Sayers argued that this stage would present the perfect time to engage students in debate and other such skills of the “logic” stage, capitalizing on the predisposition of their age. But is this a Scriptural perspective? Is it any wonder that many “classically” trained students reach young adulthood with a marked lack of humility? Shouldn’t we desire that Christian children respond to capital ‘R’ Reality with a posture of receptive humility, not stand over God-given knowledge or their elders in boastful superiority?
Lest you think I’m giving Sayers too much credit in the formation of the modern “classical” movement (more rightly “neoclassical”), consider that even Doug Wilson has been heavily influenced by Sayers’ work on education and the Logos School in Moscow, Idaho reflects this reality. Granted, he infused his curriculum with far more Christian doctrine than Sayers would have ever approved of, but his appreciation of Sayers’ methodology and philosophy is on display in his book, Recovering the Lost Tools of Learning. Regardless of your feelings on him, Wilson has been extremely influential in the American neoclassical homeschooling movement since the 1980s, and so it is worth considering how and by whom he has been influenced.
The goal of this post is not to tell you which curriculum to use or how to implement methodologies within your own homeschool. My purpose here is to ask that you and your husband speak deeply about your philosophy of education before you fall under the allure of the next, new shiny curriculum (believe me, I relate to the temptation!). Women, please ask your husbands’ advice when it comes to choosing educational materials. Too often I see women willy-nilly picking curriculum without the input of their husbands. Given that the heart of this issue is deeply theological, it’s prudent to allow your husband to guide the decision making in this area.
There’s so much more I’d love to say about home education and how to avoid the traps of our culture, including too often Christian culture, but for now I’ll leave you with this quote:
The entire object of true education is to make people not merely do the right things, but enjoy the right things–not merely industrious, but to love industry–not merely learned, but to love knowledge–not merely pure, but to love purity–not merely just, but to hunger and thirst after justice.
-John Ruskin “The Crown of Wild Olives”